Bound By Lies - Rafe Cameron

Chapter 58

The phone vibrates on the table beside me, the screen lighting up with a name I haven't seen in days—one that sends a sharp pang of guilt twisting through my chest.

JJ Maybank.

I hesitate, my gaze flicking to Ward's office door, then back to the phone. I shouldn't answer. I shouldn't even be thinking about answering. But a part of me—the part that's still haunted by the memories of bonfires on the beach, of laughter and easy smiles—can't let it go to voicemail.

With a deep breath, I reach for the phone, swiping to answer as I lift it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Teresa?" JJ's voice is rough, desperate, and I can hear the tension simmering beneath the surface. He's struggling to stay calm, to keep his cool, but I know him too well. I can practically feel the anger radiating off him, even through the phone. "It's JJ."

"Hey, JJ," I say softly, my heart aching at the sound of his voice. He was always the wild one, the one who acted first and thought later. But he's also been my friend, someone I could always count on. And now... "What's up?"

There's a long pause, and then I hear another voice in the background—Sarah's voice, soft and urgent, urging him to say something. I squeeze my eyes shut, my chest tightening painfully. I can almost picture them all huddled together, their faces worried, hopeful, expecting me to do the right thing.

"Teresa, you need to tell the truth in court," JJ says finally, his voice tight with barely restrained emotion. "You have to tell them what really happened. You have to tell them that Rafe—"

"I know what I have to do, JJ," I cut in quietly, trying to keep my voice steady, even though I can feel it wavering. "I know what the truth is."

"Then tell it!" he snaps, frustration lacing every word. "You know John B didn't kill your aunt. You know it was Rafe."

I swallow hard, my fingers tightening around the phone. My gaze drifts to the photograph on the desk—one of Rafe and me, taken just a few weeks ago. We're smiling, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, his eyes shining with that familiar intensity.

Rafe.

My heart aches, torn between what I know is right and what I know I need to do. Telling the truth would mean sending Rafe away. It would mean losing him forever. And I can't... I can't do that.

"I will tell the truth," I lie. "I promise."

There's a pause, a long, heavy silence filled with hope and fear and desperation. And then JJ speaks again, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You promise?"

I force a small smile, even though I know he can't see it. "Yeah, JJ. I promise."

I end the call before he can say anything else, my chest heaving as I lower the phone back onto the table, my gaze locking onto the photograph once more.

The truth. They want me to tell the truth.

But what they don't know—what they can't understand—is that the truth doesn't matter. Not anymore. Not when Rafe's life is on the line. Not when losing him isn't an option.

---

The courtroom is packed. Every seat is filled, and the tension is so thick it's hard to breathe. The heavy wooden doors creaked open an hour ago, and since then, the buzz of hushed whispers has only grown louder. Reporters scribble furiously in their notebooks, cameras flash outside the glass windows, and the faint murmur of the public's curiosity hangs in the air.

And at the center of it all, there's Rafe.

He's seated at the defendant's table, his posture tense, shoulders squared, jaw clenched tight. He's dressed in a suit and tie, his hair combed neatly, but the dark circles under his eyes and the haunted look in his gaze tell me everything. He's barely holding on.